Coping With Emetophobia
by PastellRain
Summary: 15-year-old Haku struggles with emetophobia, the phobia of throwing up. Due to this, she has constant anxiety, even though she is still trying her best to enjoy life. This is what Haku writes in her diary. Slice-of-life. Eventual romance.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I have emetophobia. It's an odd phobia to most people.

I'm writing this partly for my 13-year-old self, who probably would've loved to read a story about Haku going through all the things I had went through, right down to relating to every single word of it.

I'm dedicating this to all the fellow emetophobes out there, or people with anxiety issues in general. You're not alone. You're not strange. You will make it through! You're strong and valid.

* * *

 **Haku's POV**

Today my class went on a field trip to a bowling alley. It should've been fun.

I didn't have fun. My mind was too preoccupied with thoughts. Worries wracking my head until it physically hurt.

Sometimes I wonder about these things that nobody else seems to even consider. Why smile when we're just going to cry again one day? Why do we treasure life so much in general? We're only going to die.

Do other people feel this way? Or is it just me? Everywhere I go, I see people enjoying their life, smiling as if nothing bad will ever happen to them, as if this smile of theirs will be perpetual, and I'm wondering how they're not worrying about things crumbling apart the way I do. Just how do they do it?

I know it's a horrible way for me to think. But I can't help it. I just can't help it.

I didn't ask to be emetophobic.

The root of all of this, all of this incessant worrying I do, is that I'm afraid of something so small and stupid that you'd just laugh in my face. You'd wonder why it's making me have such a negative perspective on life, and it's just because these feelings trap me.

I'm being completely serious.

I have a phobia of vomiting.

To say I'm "terrified" is an understatement. I'm literally more afraid of it then I'm afraid to die.

This is the part where I give you a few seconds to laugh.

Now that you're done laughing, please hear me out.

I feel trapped every day. Things might be okay now, but time continues to pass every day, every hour, every second... every nanosecond... you get the picture. I may feel fine right now, but what if I'm going to throw up tomorrow?

Soon, there will be a time where things won't be okay. The average person vomits at least once a year, or so I've heard. I may have gone eight years without doing it, but that also means I'm way overdue.

All I do is worry about the next time it will happen to me. Will it be in the near or distant future? Where will I be? Will I be "ready"? How bad will it be? Will I cry or have a panic attack? Will I be able to make it through? Or will I be traumatized to death?

But if I were dead... then I wouldn't have to worry about the next time I will ever throw up. I would be dead. I've considered this a few times before, but rejected the idea every time.

The thing is, I don't want to be dead.

I love life much too much. The good parts of it, anyway.

Also, If I died now, none of my dreams will ever come true.

My dreams are probably the only thing that are keeping me alive. I don't really want to say what they are. They're much too idealistic and really embarrassing. But they're in my heart during the darkest hours to remind me that maybe, maybe there is hope. And that's what matters to me about them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** This thing is going to have short chapters, but will maybe continue for fairly long. It will basically be about Haku's life.

Also I promise that I won't make it triggering for people who have emetophobia. So if you're worrying about that, this fic is pretty safe for the most part. :)

* * *

 **Haku's POV**

Sometimes I wonder about things that prove I really am a weirdo.

"When was the last time that person there threw up"? I wonder all the time. About random people.

Also, during movies. Has that celebrity thrown up since this movie was filmed? Has this singer thrown up since they recorded the song I'm listening to?

Well, you see, for everybody else, throwing up is simply... unpleasant. They do it, get over it, and then keep on going.

For me, however, it's... the bane of my existence.

For me, it's this big event. For me, it's a mark on the calendar. For me, it subconsciously divides my life into two eras.

My life is divided into two sections. The years before "it" happened, and the years after "it" happened.

The "it" in question is the day where I last threw up. Years ago. The memory still haunts me and divides my life in two.

If only I could be able to stop thinking of it that way, maybe I could finally get over this stupid phobia.

But I just can't. I can't stop thinking in such a way.

Something is telling me to end this "chapter" on a positive note, just like I did the last one...

Well...

I have a friend who understands me. We don't see each other often, because she moved across the state a few years ago. We don't go to the same school. Yet we still keep in touch.

Her name is Neru, and she understands. She doesn't have the phobia herself. In fact, I'm not exactly sure she truly knows exactly what I'm feeling. But she supports me.

So to end this on a positive note, I'm seeing Neru this Saturday. Today is Wednesday and I couldn't be more impatient.

When I'm with Neru, somehow I forget about all these things I worry about. I'm craving the relief of being with her.

If only I could see her every day.


End file.
